Sparrow in the Snow
by Meander Red
Summary: Companions never Choose wrongly. All of Valdemar knows that. But can Valdemar accept that the youngest of the Heralds is a criminal that they all wanted to see dead? Set between Arrow's Fall and Winds of Fate.
1. Chapter 1

The young Herald grimaced with distaste as she tugged at her bodice until the hem met with the top of her skirt and looked into the cheap piece of tin that she carried as a mirror to apply makeup. It took a far heavier hand than she would have used if she had been wearing her Whites, but then Whites would not be particular welcome with the sort of clientèle who frequented the tavern.

_If they were, I might have come back with fewer bruises last time. No wonder Balin was so angry. I guess I should be grateful it is a tavern and not an inn_. Even the thought of what that could have meant made her shiver.

With a sigh, she tucked her flute into the loop in her costume designed for it with one last look in the mirror. No one would recognize the rather plain looking Herald Callie in the flamboyant dancing girl who was reflected in the mirror. Which was rather the point. After all, as much as the custom here would object to knowing that they were being watched by a Herald, the Heralds themselves would have thrown twice the fit if they knew that any Herald, let alone one who was barely in full Whites like Callie, was playing the part of a dancing girl in one of the most disreputable taverns in the craftsman quarter of Haven.

_More, if they knew just what that actually entailed!_ Callie thought grimly. _Which is why I am flying without a net on this one. I would shock their delicate sensibilities if anyone had to rescue me from here. Not to mention blowing my cover so thoroughly that it would put me and anyone around me in danger._

As she made her way to the common room, making sure that the filmy layers of her skirt flounced to show more than she would have liked, she let meek little Callie Barker, Herald of Valdemar slide away, replaced instead by what was left of Lecallyine Golsa, the precocious little child thrall she had been now seemingly grown into something a little more polished than the typical tupenny whore from Exile's Gate.

_But times like now make me wish that I could!_

***

Kerowyn sighed as she finished off the last of her dinner, scanning the crowd briefly. There was no sign of the child procurer who had brought her out tonight. Hopefully Alberich had better luck searching the taverns where he was at. She hated the idea of that sort of scum on the streets, and drank deeply from her glass of stout ale to clean the taste from her mouth. Not that she had not drunk worse when leading the Skybolts, but the stuff was still strong enough to cut through paint. She heard the murmuring of the other bar patrons as they caught sight of the pretty little thing who came out. She was wearing the sort of filmy skirt and low cut bodice that gave her trade away pretty clearly, even without the heavily made up face and patently darkened hair. She was also of age.

_Barely._

The girl did dance beautifully though. And not just the lewd licentious dancing that one expected from a tavern girl, but once or twice she even danced a court dance with some of the men who paid a bit more for such services. And during her breaks, she did not stop, but rather sat cross-legged on a barrel in the corner and played along with the raucous melodies that the fiddler through her.

_Caught no hare this night have I, merely a bullyboy put away and into the hands of the Guard. To the salle, I shall be heading. Speak more we shall when you return._

Kero sighed as she watched the girl finish the last rather daring pirouette and paid her tab. Alberich was probably right. The tavern was close to closing if the girl had finished, and she was the closest that either of them had gotten to any lead on the whoremaster.

Still, it took years to learn the sort of dancing the girl had done. And if she was just past sixteen now …

_Actually, go to the barracks instead. I think I might have found a little song-sparrow who knows a thing or two of this. I'm going to try and catch her. Shouldn't be hard to make it look as if she was robbing a sell-sword._

She made her way to leave and waited in a corner against the wall of the building. The girl might be the best chance they had. And even if the little song-sparrow didn't know anything, well, it might be tasty bait for the sort of creature they were hunting.

***

Callie felt tired and filthy as she began to walk towards the open stables where Balin hid himself on her escapades. She caught a glimpse of shadow as the figure moved from where they had been lurking along the building to follow her. Fighting to keep from breaking out in a run, she sped up a bit, pulling her cloak tighter, shivering in spite of the warm summer air. It was not merely fear that caused that reaction, but also the fact it was damned cold out here compared to the heat of the tavern after dancing in the way that Lecallyine did. Even years of practice like she had had before her breasts began to bud and she had the nerve to take up a job as the frightened little card-sharping tavern wench that Balin had Chosen from three doors past the Virgin and Stars could not change the fact it was damned hard work to dance like that.

She could actually see the stable light when the hand clapped over her mouth and her follower struck, laying her flat on the ground with a sword pressed against her back. Feeling the edge of the blade, Callie quit struggling, fighting back screams and tears that were rising to the surface as she heard the sound of a heavy coin bag being pulled loose.

_If things get bad, Balin will come rescue me_. Callie repeated, fervently hoping that the Companion would be able to reach her in time. Her lip felt as if it had been cut during the fall, and the taste of her blood kept her from thinking too much of what the sword at her back could mean.

And then she did not think of it at all as the sound of a Guard whistle broke the night and she found herself and the sell-sword who had attacker her being hauled to their feet and dragged off to the barracks.


	2. Chapter 2

Cleaned up and dressed in Whites, Kero spared a chuckle for the poor guard who had stepped in and broken up the fight she had started. As soon as he realized she was a woman, it had taken little talking to convince him that she was an honest sell-sword who had been robbed by a light skirted tavern wench who had taken her in the dark for being a man. It helped, of course, that the older Guard who had been on duty in the barracks when she was brought in, was familiar with Lessa Bladebound, one of the more trustworthy personae that Kero kept in her bag of tricks. She spotted Alberich where he was waiting for her so that they could begin questioning the suspected thief. The girl was still wrapped in her mud spattered cloak and dancing outfit. Even so, Kero could pick out where some bruises were forming on the girl's pale arms. She felt a twinge of pity for the girl and the sort of life that had made her expect this as a matter of course, but even as she thought it, she knew that she would have made sure the girl spent a night or two in gaol if it would have gotten the bastard responsible for this.

_Not that gaol would be so bad. At least she would be safe there, and not need to worry about being raped or murdered for a day or two._

Kero began the questioning, knowing that someone like the whore across from them would have expected the sell-sword who attacked her to be male. Getting the story out of her was by no means easy, but she told it eventually before either Herald felt the need to call Truth Spell on her. But when it came to giving her name, that was a whole other story. The girl had turned as reticent as a block of wood, fighting the first degree Truth Spell and insisting that they really did not want to know who she was. Letting Alberich maintain the Truth Spell, Kero leaned forward and lifted the girl's chin, forcing the dark and startled eyes to look into hers. The girl struggled and bit back a curse, but she sat there, unmoving as Kero stared at her.

"Listen to me. I am no stranger to light skirts, young one. And I have seen more than you can imagine. But if you can tell me who you are and who you're procurer is, we can keep you safe and others from the sort of filth who brought you into this."

"You would not believe me even if I told you. And I will be in more trouble then than I already am." the girl choked out, her light voice husky with emotion before she began shaking her head.

Kero sighed and nodded for Alberich to invoke the second stage Truth spell.

"Who are you, girl, and what were you doing in the tavern tonight?"

The girl fought to keep the words behind her clenched lips as tears began to spill down her cheeks, but it would have taken someone far more capable than a sixteen year old whore to break a Truth spell, especially not with someone as strong-willed as one of the Collegium Weaponsmasters focusing it.

"I am Lecallyine Golsa, and I was there because I was trying to keep them from hiring any children like they did me before I ran off. I needed to. Don't you understand that? I went because I needed to. I'm a Herald. What other choice did I have?"

***

The look on the Weaponsmaster's face as she tried to register the image of the whore she had expected with the idea that such a person could be a Herald.

_I bet she's even more shocked since everyone thought that Lecallyine Golsa was drowned in the Terilee seven years ago, just before Callie Barker was Chosen. She might have still been fighting as a mercenary at the time, but I bet that she heard about that from the Guard_.

For that matter, as startled as the other Herald looked, she reckoned that he knew as well. Honestly, she had been too busy trying to avoid the questions to pay much attention to his face until he had looked up. It took a second for her to recognize the face of Herald Alberich, especially wearing Whites rather than the gray leathers that he wore for weapons work. Fortunately, before he could say anything, one of the Guard popped their head in, saying that there was a Companion waiting at the gate of the barracks.

_Oh, poor Balin! He is going to be worried sick_!

Alberich had gone out to see and returned a few minutes later with a bundle tucked under his arm, a female Guard standing in the door frame waiting.

He nodded curtly at Callie and tossed her the Whites. "Your Whites from your Companion's bags I have brought. Clean you need to be, and changed before talk as is needed can be done. To do this, the Guard you shall now follow."

The order could have been part of any piece of drillwork in the salle for all the more emotion that the Weaponsmaster showed. However, as Callie got up, grateful for the chance to remove the oil and kohl that coated her hair and skin in spite of everything else, she caught a glimpse of the anger in the sharp gray eyes, and she hurried out after the Guard, not looking forward to the sort of words that the Weaponsmasters meant to have with her. Still, the feeling of the warm water and soap against her skin left her feeling almost human again. Nearly a quarter mark later, dressed in her Whites, she walked back out, the dress and slippers wrapped in the towel that she had dried her hair with to protect them until she could get them back to her hideaway behind the cobbler's store. Whatever Alberich and Kerowyn had wished to say had apparently vanished for neither of them spoke as the three Heralds mounted their Companions and rode back to the Collegium. Unsaddled and brushed, Callie turned and went to head back to her suite, but found an arm on her shoulder. It was Kerowyn, and the leveling gaze the woman gave her let her know that in spite of the fact no one had said anything yet, there were still words unspoken about what had happened tonight.

She followed the two like a child caught misbehaving. She blinked, trying to let her eyes adjust to the bright of the salle and caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Standing between the two older Heralds, she really did look like a frightened child. Delicately built and smaller than even some of the first year Trainees. Add to that her pale complexion and the pretty dark eyes that looked to large for her face beneath the mop of straight shoulder length hair that was the same light, if nondescript, brown of oat straw and she might as well have been a living doll for people to fuss over and cosset.

_Or try to own_.

The other memories were too close for her to try and block out, having been Lecallyine most of the night rather than Callie. It was almost a relief when Alberich opened the door and gestured for her to follow him and Kero inside, away from the accusing images in the mirrors.

_Almost._

It was still not enough for her to want to hear the sort of words that the angry Weaponsmaster had promised her.


	3. Chapter 3

It was about a candle mark past dawn when Alberich made his way through the Collegium to the Herald Chronicler's office. He knocked once, hiding a smile at the odd Hardornian curse that greeted his arrival. He entered as the cursing continued to see Myste shaking her hand like a dead fish, still wet from the hot chava she had apparently spilled on it. He sat down in the chair across from her and waited until Myste was ready to return to business, running the conversation of the night before through his head while he did so. And she would, that Alberich had no doubt about. He had seen the sedate former clerk pursue something with the tenacity of rat-terrier if she felt it was needed. And the name Lecallyine Golsa had set Myste off in that sort of fervor.

"Most of this will be old news to you, but I don't mind telling you anyway. Lecallyine Golsa is - was - the sort of person most of us become Heralds to rid Valdemar of. She was a child whore, probably the most famous in all of Haven, until she drowned. A tragic protégé of sorts. Cunning, very cunning. A beautiful dancer even as a child, and the list of theft, assault, everything short of murder that they suspected that girl of would make our Skif look like an amateur. Obviously, all of that was expunged once she was declared dead. What makes you ask now? She has been dead for seven years, right before Talia and Kris left to meet with Ancar!"

Alberich steepled his fingers under his chin and shut his eyes trying to think of how to tell Myste just what he had learned last night.

_Callie sat in the chair across from him, her legs pulled up against her chest and she stared at him coldly, waiting for his questions._

_"What thought had you to go this night and the whore play with no word to any? Help you should with you taken. Think, child. What happen would have if Kero it was not who attacked you, but an evil-minded bullyboy? How well would have worked your plan if unconscious you were, or worse yet, dead?"_

_Callie untucked her legs and leaned forward, the coldness gone from her eyes and voice as she began to speak. And it was truly speech, not the enraged screaming protests one would have thought from a girl her age, but a far more frightening, almost deadly whisper that made Alberich's hands itch for his blade._

_"How dare you patronize me like that! What right do you have to yell at me for what I do when I take the care to make sure that the Heralds are kept out of it? I know full damned well what I did. Even if I did not realize what it was when I left the trade, I should most certainly know now after five years of spying on the bastards who do this! No one would be fool enough to. And don't even start on me. I am not one of the bright eyed children who are still as innocent and shiny as new coppers when they get their Whites who thinks no one will hurt them. I am simply that good. No one is going to kill off the only source of a supply, not when it is so valuable. And as for being hurt, well, if it will soothe everyone's sensibilities, there is a reason I dance in taverns rather than the inns or brothels that would actually pay for someone of my skill. And if you mean in an out and out attack -" The girl shrugged . "Kero is hardly the first person to have attacked me doing this, or the worst. And she will probably not be the last either. But I come back alive every night. There is no way that even if there were back up I could guarantee that they would."_

_"Think you Kerowyn and I ourselves cannot protect or so innocent are to not spot a trap? Longer than you have been alive, longer than Selenay has been Queen have Exile's Gate and the streets of Haven I patrolled. Why did you not one of us speak to?"_

_"She was not here when I started this. And you, if you were patrolling Exile's Gate - do not take this wrongly, but less reason I have to trust you now then before."_

_Kerowyn ended the conversation, using the lateness of the hour as an excuse, while Alberich and Callie stared at each other, some deep unspoken pain passing between them._

_"More must be said before out again you go." he called after her parting form, his mind trapped on the image of the poisoned children and stripped down building of the brothel where Callie had lived before her "drowning."_

_There was no answer, just the mere sound of her slippers hitting the gravel path speeding up in response to his voice._

Alberich opened his eyes. Myste was sitting patiently, waiting for him to finish forming the words. There was no reproach in her expression; Myste was one of the only people who he was able to be so open with, probably the only person who knew just how much he had viewed the girl's drowning as a personal failure on his part, something that he should have stopped in his patrols around Exile's Gate. And even though Alberich had already decided he would not give away Callie's secret, he knew without saying that Myste would understand that and the request he was about to make of her, because his honor could not leave the child to do work like that alone now that he knew.

"Connections there are between Herald Callie and Lecallyine Golsa, which found I only last night through my work. That connection I believe a threat is yet, after hearing witnesses speak of it, and our youngest Herald might like Lecallyine end up if a threat in her they see."

"Damn it all to hell. No, not you. It just means a little extra work for me with this if the threat is as bad as you think. I've been trying to help Teren find something for the girl's internship, and the last full Herald who was as small as Callie after hitting their growth was Herald Melly from the time of King Theran. Even without the sort of problems that have been creeping up along the border, we cannot send her there, so it is either messenger circuit or interning her here, in Haven or the Collegium itself. What I need to know is after whatever happened, how many of those are still options?"

Alberich thought for a minute. If Callie was out of Haven, it would solve the problem for a while. But would Callie resume it again as soon as she came back? And would she get caught if he pressed the point too far? Some of the people who she worked with would hesitate far less over killing Herald Callie than they would over the tavern dancer, others pausing only because it was a death sentence to kill any Herald or their Companion. He shook his head.

"No more danger can I say will that those put her in than that danger she faces now."

Myste's eyebrows furrowed, and he saw her repeating the past few words to work out just what he had said. While fluent in Karsite, Alberich's sudden transition into the language from Valdemarian made it a bit harder for her to follow. He silently cursed himself for being so careless. His native speech was something that he had had problems hiding since he was Chosen, but to allow himself to fall into the comforting rhythms without any awareness at all - that was a foolishness that with anyone except for another Herald, especially Myste, could have gotten him killed. To unknowingly slip like that said more than anything just how badly he was taking this.

_How do I let her know what I believe could happen on Callie's internship when I cannot tell anyone the girl's secret? Not when she has made it clear that she trusts me so little._

Struggling, Alberich looked upwards and started again, this time in the formal Valdemarian that he fell into when he was stressed.

"Callie is in graver danger than anyone can guess. Especially if any of the enemies she made before being Chosen learn that."

Myste smiled and shook her head. "Cardsharping barmaids might make enemies, but the sort from by Virgin and Stars are hardly the sort to take it so personally. Honestly, her greatest threat is if she insulted a Bard!"

Alberich looked up and said a silent prayer to the Sunlord, hoping that what he said next would let Myste put this together without him saying anything more.

"Not if people find out Lecallyine Golsa is still alive."


	4. Chapter 4

Callie had taken advantage of the bathing rooms, which were practically deserted with everyone else already at dinner, or getting ready for it. The heat had seeped into her bones, loosening up the worse of the stiffness from the night before. She had danced with worse bruises, but it hurt like hell to even try it. With a sigh, she eased herself out of the tubs and wrapped herself in her robe. It was a thick plush toweling that she had splurged on her last Quarter Day. Clad only in her robe and smallclothes, she stretched gingerly, testing to see where her limits would be for the night. Reassured that they were about normal, she stepped back and placed a kick over her head, her leg nearly a straight line with her ear. She smiled, grateful that at least one thing was going right today. She would need to get dressed and leave now if she wanted to get to her hideaway in time to return this costume and get the one she needed tonight, not without cutting herself short on the time it would take for her to blacken and set her hair.

_At least tonight, I won't get caught. Not with Kero expecting me to dance at the Thorny Brush again tonight. _Callie thought with a certain grim amusement as she ran from the stables to the little room tucked in behind the cobbler's workshop. By some trick of fate, tonight was the one night free that she was granted every fortnight by the sort of scum that kept the Thorny Brush. Which would leave any Heralds who might follow her chasing shadows.  
She was smiling at that last thought as she shut the little outside door to the tanning shed, leaving the room into darkness almost as dark as the kohl that was covering her hair once she had hidden the dress and grabbed the plain bodice and longer skirt from behind another keg of dye. She had changed in the dark here often enough to know that no one bother her or accuse her of stealing. Least of all the cobbler.  
_Not that he is a bad sort, given the sort of bastids I normally find_.  
No, not a bad sort at all. As big as he was, the cobbler was a gentle man with the sort of apple cheeked look that reminded Callie of what someone's granther might look like. He had taken one look at Callie, dressed like a little street sparrow on one of her first runs with this, and given her permission to use the room to sleep and even to use the rinsing vat that was kept for to rinse things that were freshly dyed or tanned to wash up in. She knocked on the door and whistled before stepping out into the closing shop. The cobbler smiled to see her, the relief at seeing her plain skirt and blouse etched around his eyes. Callie felt a bit guilty, knowing that the man felt worried when she was scheduled to dance at the Thorny Brush.  
"Night off, guv. Think I might nip off for my regular at the Bird and Bread rather than the swill they serve round my quarters."  
"Aye. Well, ye can be sure 'at Rissa'll be glad to 'ave ye round 'gain. Says she makes more'n ye stop and play a tune for 'er than 'hat she gets aft workin' 'er fingers bakin' each day. Ye'r free to 'ave a washup and a few marks a sleep though ere ye 'ead back to your corner, sparrow."  
Callie bobbed a curtsey, bending her head to keep the lump in her throat from becoming obvious. Bless the man for his kindness towards the little street brat he thought Callie still was. "Thank ye kindly, sir. Keep 'at in mind me shall. Best be off fore Rissa sells 'er last roll. Rest easy a'night, guv."  
"I'll rest as easy as I 'ave since yer las' night orv, girl. Naw, 'ese ol' bones need more rest 'an your legs. I'll be off now. Take care."  
Rissa, the barkeep at The Bird and Bread tavern was of a different ilk than any of her other employers.  
She snorted at the less than generous thought. _Say what you mean, Callie. She is more than some man who makes his living simply leeching life out of others._  
In fact, short of the Heralds, she was hard pressed to think of anyone less like the manipulative procurers and managers than Rissa. In spite of having a face like a horse and the personality of a battleaxe, Rissa was as close as Callie could remember to a mother. She was also an excellent source of information with how many people she saw come in and out at all hours of the day and night. Unlike most barkeeps, Rissa was less interested in the quality of alcohol she kept than the food, mostly because the Bird and Bread was at the back of a bakehouse which Rissa ran during the day. Callie walked the brisk quarter of a block to the entrance back of the stage door, grabbing a piece of bread as she wove through the kitchen. Rissa saw her as she approached the bar.  
"Heyla, our little songster here again! Thought you'd be in gaol with all the White-shirts roaming these past few nights!"  
_Oh, Rissa, if you only knew!_  
"No, they ain't caught me out yet. Sprained my ankle in a bad turn a night or two past. Can dance as good as ever on it, but I think a lazy night twittering out songs might keep my bed and board up a bit better. Ya mind, Rissa?"  
"Mind? Are ye daft, girl! Ye come in and play for scraps and I sell more when ye play or dance 'an what I manage in a fortnight elsewise. Ye could just sit an' gab an' it'd be fine by my watch."  
So she played for two whole candlemarks, until Rissa came over with the bread and meat she saved for Callie, and a jar of sweetened wine to clear her throat. Callie sat on a box in the corner and Rissa joined her on a nearby stool.

"So, what has them trotting their whitewashed nags through here?" Callie asked, falling back into street cant. This might not be where she was raised, but this section of the craftsman's quarters was just as untrusting of Heralds in their own way as the sort who lived in Exile's Gate.

"Oh, not much as I can tell. Just some making the rounds. Of course, I got all of this from Jeres, and he sometimes sees things from the bottom of the bottle, if ye take my meaning. But he swears that he saw a Herald 'at looks a spittin' image of one a the merchants 'e sells to down near the Broken Arms. Can't picture anyone mistaking one of 'em for a Herald, but no accounting 'at with Jeres. An' then, just yesterday, 'ad a young man stop at the bakeshop for a 'ot pie while he 'as making rounds. Lad was 'andsome enough, but gave me a start for all that he looked like Londer, 'at ran the Hollybush round ten years back now. When Londer was young, of course. Not a body in Haven'd mistake 'em now. And none of Londer's kin look like that, not since 'is sister's boy ran off - oh, at least ten years back come Midwinter. No, more years 'an ten come to think of that. Talamir lived at least a good couple years after that, and Herald Talia has been Queen's Own for only about seven years now. She was new in Whites when that bastid Ancar started the war with us."

Callie digested this information, chewing mindlessly on the heel of the bread as she listened to Rissa talking about other visitors to the bakeshop. Any of the Heralds might have stopped at the bakeshop on their way to the barracks or the Heraldic court. But there was only one that Callie could think of who would be the Herald that the drunkard had seen in Exile's Gate. Still, as Rissa pointed out, if he could not pick out faces well when he was drunk, it could be any of the sell-swords or unscrupulous merchants that hung out in that area. There certainly were enough of them that it was possible that Jeres had found one other than Alberich or Kerowyn.

Relaxed, she asked a little more about the latest tale, this one about one of Rissa's customers, an elderly woman with a wandering mind that was filthier than the bottom of most stables and hands that wandered even worse until she finished the meal and went back to playing.

Half a dozen songs later, she left the tavern and made her way the little tanning shed. Once she was chilled from the icy shower and once more dressed in her Whites, she made her way back to the Collegium. Tiredly brushing down Balin in his stall when she heard raised voices from a few stalls down.

"Keren, no one has found her or her Companion anywhere around for the past five marks and you wonder why half the Collegium is panicking?"

"No, I don't wonder, but it would hardly be the first time that a Herald has left the Collegium to be by herself for a few marks. She probably is just spending some time at the Bell, Talia."

"She was not at the Bell when I came back with Kero and Alberich. Believe me, Alberich would have noticed Balin stabled there with how frantic he was. I have never seen him that angry before, not even before I was Chosen." a familiar male voice from nearby chimed in.

"Skif, that does not seem like our Weaponsmaster, not with him sounding like he meant to meddle like some old village granny." Talia pointed out, a bit archly.

"No, little sister, it is not. But if she is who Kero told you, then that would explain him being in a dark mood like this. He poured his heart out in trying to find the Calmun Golsa and that damned brothel. Losing them less than a sennight after we caught Vatean and that damned mess he was running was like a bone in Alberich's craw. To find out that one of them was still alive - Alberich will not risk having her die in truth this time."

Another male sigh came from further past. "I'll send out the Guard to look for Balin again." It took Callie a second to recognize the rumbling baritone as the voice of the Lord Marshal's Herald.

"Thank you, Griffon. Let us hope Keren is right. I for one do not want to deal with Alberich's temper if we are not."

Callie took care to sneak out of the stables the way she had come and went to bed, letting the conversation repeat in her head until she finally fell into sleep a few candle marks before dawn.


	5. Chapter 5

Neave knocked on the Dean's office door, still expecting to see Elcarth sitting there. It was still a shock to hear Teren answering him instead. He opened the door and saw his former teacher sitting there, looking the same as he always did, maybe a bit grayer, but just as unflappable with the same gentle brown eyes that he remembered from when he was first Chosen.

"Ah, glad to see you are back from mission. Which of the four winds were you sent to this time?"

"I think all of them. Just back from riding a border circuit up near Iftel. Thank Havens it is so damned cold in the winter if all the summers are like this. If I saw one more bandit, I think I would have let them shoot me, simply so that I could have a bit of rest!"

Teren laughed. "Oh, yes, I remember what that was like. At least it isn't winter. With how quiet it is up that area when it gets cold, even the bandits seem like pleasant company then."

"That I believe. So, Dean Teren, I take it you called me in for more than just a social visit. Another greenie to train?"

"Yes, our youngest Herald just got her Whites a month ago. With her size and age, I had thought of maybe keeping her in Haven or the Collegium even, but I'm afraid there are no suitable Heralds to deal with her on that sort of circuit right now. Besides, some of our Heralds found some enemies from her past that make me think that it is safer to risk her to bandits outside Haven than whatever she would be fighting in Haven."

"Well, it hardly will be the worst circuit you've sent me on. I think that till the day I die that will be a toss up between the Karsite border and Hardorn during the war. And I've ridden most of the Northern Border sectors, including both Forest of Sorrows sectors in winter in the past year. Nothing in Lake Evendim will surprise me after that. Still, are you sure you want to send a greenie out on Border watch?"

Teren sighed. "No, Neave, I am not. But all of the Herald Couriers are riding missions that she is even less likely to survive than that. And as I have said before, I would have her ride circuit in Haven or the Collegium if I thought it was an option. Knowing what Kero has reported to me in the past day or so, that is not something I want to think of with this girl."

Neave snorted. "Teren, no one in their right mind is going to attack a Herald outright under our noses!"

The Dean shook his head. "No, but if she stays, I do not think anyone doubts that she would be walking the streets of Haven as soon as our backs were turned. If the Weaponsmasters both think it is likely, I do not wish to argue the point with either of them. Not when Kero found her dancing in a tavern not too far from Exile's Gate."

Neave blanched, "What sort of game is the girl playing with that? Does she have any idea of what type of trouble girls like that invite?"

Teren shook his head. "She knows, Neave. How any of us missed this for so long, I have no idea. But yes, that is why we want to get her out of Haven. And before you even ask, all the interior circuits have had Heralds ride out to cover them within the past three moons or so. Short of one of them coming back with a broken leg, there really is no other option for this girl with internship."

"Then I will take her with me." Neave said with a sigh. "Although, Lady help me, if she tries that sort of game on circuit with me, we both might be coming back in pieces."

Teren left out a chuckle at that. "Aren't you scheduled to leave for Lake Evendim in the next moon or so? Nothing moves in Lake Evendim in winter. Not bandits, not pirates. Only hard headed Heralds would bestir themselves enough to brave the cold."

Neave nodded. "So Kyril tells me. Well, I at least have the better part of a month to see the Healers and make sure I'll be in shape to handle the girl. Does our little hellcat Herald have a name?"

"A name and a face both. You'll see her while you are in, anyroad. But yes, you're field mentoring Herald Callie."

***

Callie was sweating, breathless after the weapons practice Jeri had given her. Her shoulders ached a bit after fighting over her head for as long as she had today, but it was none too bad.

_After all, it's my shoulders hurting not my legs. Although it would have been a lot easier if I could have kicked my way through practice rather than the overhead blocks. Bright Lady, those hurt!_

She was halfway across Companion's Field, her head torn between thoughts of the pain in her shoulder and the dancing she would be doing that night when she heard a man's voice from a little way behind her calling her name. She turned, wincing a bit as her shoulder tightened against the sudden movement and then forced her face to relax as she greeted the stranger. In the bright afternoon sunlight, the clearest feature of the figure was his Whites. Still, whoever it was, it could hardly be a threat, not if he was another Herald. She waited as the man ran the last few steps to catch up, trying to place the features as he came closer and utterly failing.

"Heyla, you don't slow down do you? Are you heading up to the Collegium?"

"Yes, Herald-" she paused significantly, with an almost unfriendly tone, trying to wrack her brain for who he might be.

"Herald Neave, my lady. Pardon for bothering you, but I saw you nursing your bruises and was hoping for a bit of company as I made my way to the Collegium for a bit of headache powder from a friend. I'm still ready to fall asleep on my feet after riding in, and I used the last bit that the Healers gave me when I was on circuit."

"Oh, I hardly think that a few bruises call for a visit to the House of Healing. A hot soak and a bit of salve will straighten that out." Callie said, stepping away a bit hesitantly.

_Not an unheard of response with Heralds. How many of us do the Healers see in a year?_

_You are making excuses, Chosen. Herald Neave is well known to us Companions and less likely than you even to find the Healers without need. He means it when he says he just wants you to walk with him._

_Dammit, Balin is right_. Callie thought as she kept walking, keeping stride with the Herald next to her. But it felt like a kick to her gut to hear her Companion saying that, for Balin was the only living creature who knew just who she was and everything that meant. After all, only a handful of Heralds knew her true name, even fewer of which had access to the court records. And none of them would know just what had happened to make her run off and live on the streets around the Fivepenny for the better part of a year. Only Balin, and he was ready to send her to the Healers and wash his hands of her as well.

_Hardly_, he snorted. _If that were true, I would have insisted you see the Healers as soon as you were Chosen._

_Then why are you doing this now?_

She felt a nudge against her arm and looked up to see Balin's startling blue eyes staring reproachfully at her. _Dear one, would that even half the Heralds had the strength of heart you do! I am hardly some Companion mare wishing to keep a witless foal from wandering off. In all this time, I have never stopped you, never breathed word to the other Companions even. But I cannot let harm come to you or any of the other Heralds. And with this past week, that harm will come. Chosen, you directly disobeyed an order from both Weaponsmasters, were caught - and thank Havens it was Kero and not some cutthroat. And you were hurt rather badly with that blow that caught you 'neath the ribs last night. I have no intention of giving up, but at least keep walking with Neave. If you refuse to see the Healers, at least do that. And show some sense in this. I would hate to think I was arguing with Rolan and Kantor all morning for nothing_.

Callie sighed out loud and heard a soft chuckle from Neave next to her as Balin trotted off towards where two Companions were waiting for him off at the edge of the field.

"Companion calling you out? Don't feel too bad about that. Mine does it often enough. At least I am normally the only one who hears her calling me an idiot, unless I do something truly stupid. Then half the Collegium and every Companion from here to the border hears about it too."

Callie smiled. "I don't know about that. Balin thinks it is bad enough already. Still, nice to know I am not the only one who gets these lectures."

Neave gave her an odd sidelong glance at that. "Well, the Companions are normally far better judges of character than I. But, no, I think that every Companion feels it their duty to lecture their Chosen every so often. Keeps us humble if nothing else."

They were at the Collegium, and Callie was prevented from trying to think of any reply to either the Herald or her Companion as she watched Neave kick a pile of newly fallen leaves away from the door in front of them and followed behind him. The injury to her stomach earned dancing the night before ached in memory at Balin's words, and with the pain already building in her shoulders left her feeling weak and stunned.

It was nothing compared to the realization that had come to her since Balin had gone to join the other Companions.

She had hurt her Companion with what she was doing. That was an action that no Herald would have ever even considered, and yet she had done it without ever thinking of what it might mean.

_And yet, he still considers me his Chosen. Why do they put up with us, I wonder_.

Now was not the time for such thoughts though. Not while she was being watched like this by some stranger, Herald or no. Callie took a second to check her shields, pleased to find that they were still secure enough to hide the shock of just how badly her actions had hurt Balin from the Herald next to her. She had seen how badly Keren had ripped into some of the newly Chosen when they had been too careless playing a game in Companion's Field and had nearly caused one of the mares to fall and twist her hoof in a small rut, an injury which could well have broken the Companion's leg and the anger that all of the other Heralds felt at the thought of a Companion being injured, even by accident was incredible and not something Callie particularly wanted to be aimed at her.

Still, she was reluctant to keep walking with this man until she realized that his path was not for the Healer's Collegium, but for the Heraldic, and more specifically the kitchen. The cook normally knew where everyone was, and more than that, normally had his own supply of basic first aid things. Mero waved them both welcomingly in, and began to supply them with food, listening to the man's stories about the latest border circuit he had been on. Callie was halfway through the apple that she had grabbed with a crust of bread and cheese when she became even aware of the woman leaning on the counter.

"Heyla, Sparrow!"

Herald Keren's greeting as she leaned on the counter was so much like Rissa's normal way of greeting her that she had to blink to fight back the urge to cry for a brief second, grateful that Keren was too busy greeting the other Herald to pay as much as attention to that as she might have otherwise. She began to listen as she kept eating, trying to piece together what she had missed in her few seconds of not paying attention.

"Well, our little centaur is up in another one of those bloody meetings, giving all the highborn a piece of her mind about what she thinks about their latest batch of proposals. But I'm sure I have some of that powder around somewhere. Better a bit extra than running short in the middle of one of the classes isn't it?"

"Aye, that is sure, Keren. Heyla there, Callie? Will you walk with us a space?"

Callie shook her head. In spite of Balin's warnings, she was still scheduled to dance, and Havens only knew how long it would be before she was sent out on mission. She would have to stop then, but she had to make sure that she covered her trail before just ending like she would have to. Which meant dancing tonight even with her stomach and shoulders, and the soaking in the baths that would let her do so. She smiled sweetly and shook her head.

"I have too many bruises from Jeri which need my attention to be able to manage that right now."

The other two Heralds winced in sympathy..

"Ah, that I believe well with how trained the girl is! Be grateful it was not Alberich giving you the bruises at least. You would have felt them more!"

Keren laughed a bit at her student's description but she nodded. "Aye, that I believe. Even Dethor's bruises that he gave me when I was in Grays hurt a hell of a lot less than the ones I got full-trained in Whites from Alberich. And Kero is not so much gentler either. Go, take care of those bruises, sparrow. They'll feel like they're growing less in a few hours if you do that."

The better part of a candlemark later, Callie wrapped herself in her heavy wine red wool bathing robe again, the sore muscles and bruises no longer protesting as she stretched, and she was pleased after an experimental kick to realize that there was no risk of her getting hurt if she were as careful as she normally was in her dancing. She tightened the warm soft wool of the robe more tightly around her small frame until it almost completely enveloped her, reveling in the feel of the soft fabric as she headed back to her own room to brush out her hair and gather her things before supper. She hummed as she brushed it, taking care to put on her soft doeskin dancing slippers so that they would not show beneath the boots and so that she would be able to get ready more easily later when she would be changing into the street urchin's clothes she still kept while she hid behind the tack and hay in her Companion's stall. A slight ache began to return, pulling at her shoulders and her stomach as the effects of the warm water began to wear off. She sighed and continued to get ready, Keren and Neave's earlier words whispering in her head. They were right in a way. It was lucky that her lesson had not been with the Weaponsmaster but Jeri instead. Otherwise, she was sure she would be in a state that would not have allowed her to sneak off and dance tonight. She swallowed back a twinge of guilt, and apologized brusquely to Balin for what she was asking of him again as she dressed in her Whites and boots before heading off to get an early supper. It would be a long enough night even on a full stomach.


	6. Chapter 6

Skif took the last bite of his pie and let out a sigh of contentment. At least he knew that it would taste better than the rations he was likely to be eating soon as he left for this new assignment with Elspeth that the Council was willingly so sending them on as soon as all of the preparations were in place. He laughed at just how much he had been spoiled by Mero's cooking over the years before feeling the startled nudge of a Companion nudging his shoulder urgently with their head. That startled him, since he had not been expecting Cymry to be here, having walked into Haven so that the Companion mare could spend time visiting with one of her foals instead. Even more startling was the fact that as he turned, he quickly realized that the Companion was not Cymry. Once, Skif might have just dismissed the Heralds ability to know the Companions on sight as foolery, an impossibility with a crowd of white horses, all with sapphire blue eyes. But like most Heralds, he knew Cymry on sight, and even without the tack, he knew the Companion in front of him. There was more of a silver blue sheen to the hair, a darker silver lighting the eyes of the stallion than in Cymry's, and he stood a good half a hand taller than the Companion mare. And while he was not built in the more sturdy warhorse build of Rolan and Kantor, neither was he built like a lady's fragile riding mare like most of the Companions. Out of habit, Skif took a brief glance at the tack to confirm what he already knew. It was Balin.

_Herald, I know that this is strange, but I have little time. My Chosen is hurt badly. Will you help me to get her out before her injuries worsen?_

Skif felt the pit of his stomach lurch and he nodded.

_Climb on then! Riding will be faster than walking._

Skif's feet were in the stirrups before he could even process all of what the Companion had said.

_Cymry, I'm sorry about this._

_What are you sorry for? I'll catch up with you and Balin inside Haven proper. Now hurry, Chosen, or I will put hoof prints in your behind._

They set off, not at a Companion's full gallop, which would easily overshoot their mark, but at a steady clip that even the best paced horse would be hard pressed to match. All the while, the fear of not being in time to help began to echo the urgency of her Companion.

_Balin_, Skif ventured, unsure about speaking to another Herald's Companion this way, _why did you let her get into such a mess in the first place?_

_You think I didn't try to stop her? Havens, am I tired of arguing this with the Companions and Heralds both! I am not some foal who is so moonstruck he can't see past his nose! You'd brook an argument with anyone who tried to stop you from being a thief if that meant helping people, so why should Callie not use her dancing to help stop what happened to her from happening to other children? I knew what she was when I Chose her and what she had been. But if she was a former whore turned dancing girl at heart, let alone the sort of cold-minded thief, spy, and assassin who would murder a man as easily in cold blood as she might in a fit of temper, she would never have been Chosen, let alone earned her Whites. Whatever part Lecallyine Golsa had in her crimes, her record became as clean as any other Herald when I Chose Callie Barker. And I had to earn her trust to do so. I am her Companion, and she trusts me like another part of herself, but she trusts few others at all outside the Heralds, and then it is only because they are other Heralds. I'd have asked Rolan to deal with it years ago, but to damage or break those trusts, let alone that between us was not something I wished. As for insisting she take back up or see a Healer, I did ask and try to push as much as I felt I could with her, but she was frightened that even the Collegium would reject her if they knew. Not that they would, but Heralds say things in anger as much as the rest of the world does. If I had not had some small Healing gifts of my own, the other Companions would have stepped in long before this. But we cannot do everything, Herald. Now, here I must stop for a few minutes. That tavern is not the sort where guards and Heralds can expect a ready welcome._

_Which is why you chose me for this, _Skif thought back a bit wryly, taking in the fawn colored doublet and brown trews he had put on for his evening out. _Fine, I'll head in, but then what?_

_Tell them that you are looking for your sister and you had word she was there. Describe Callie, only make sure you say black hair not blonde. She blacks it when she dances._

_And then what do we do?_

_Leave that to me. If you leave the door cracked a bit, I'm sure I can start quite a diversion. After all, even here, all know that it is against the law to interfere with Companion's Choice. _

In any other circumstances, the idea of a Companion Choosing their own Chosen would be one that Skif found sidesplitting. At the moment though, he could feel the tug of the Companion's mind letting him know that was the best option that they had. He nodded as he got down from the saddle and ran into the tavern that Balin had pointed out.

It was crowded inside and Skif took a second to look around the inside which was filled with people, some nursing drinks, some standing, some shouting, but all of whom had eyes that were firmly set on a small platform in the one corner where someone was dancing.

"Sir, be ye needin' anything' at all?"

Skif turned towards the figure that had asked that. From how she was dressed, he assumed she was the barmaid, although given the length of the skirt she wore and the blatant invitation in her tone and manners, it was clear that the girl was meant to sell more than drinks. Looking at her, Skif felt a little sick to his stomach.

_Bright Lady, is she even twelve?_

Skif shook his head to clear the thought, and the girl gripped his arm even more frantically.

"Please, sir. I canna' leave now what with my sister out with a customer now. But, please sir, as long as I am here at serve drinks, it'll be fine. I can get ye a drink if 'at's what ye want?" She sounded so desperate as if she was expecting to be beaten if he refused.

"Nah, girl. I'm just here at look for my sister. Bitty thing she is, with hair black as mine. Spent a few years out past the border, if ye catch my meanin' Came back an' heard she was workin' here. Ye've seen 'er then?"

"Aye, sir. The girl dancin' up front."

"Thank ye, then." Skif said, clasping the girl's hands in gratitude, leaving a spare coin from his purse clutched between them. He made a mental note to speak of Alberich about this place before he left, having a strong feeling that if it was in the same state when he came back from his mission, that there may very well not be much standing if he had a say in things. Knowing that it was Callie dancing, it was easy to pick her out with as tiny and striking as she was. Especially dressed in the full dancing costume, with her face and hair made up. Honestly, looking at her, it was easy for Skif to see why everyone stared at her. It was hard not to with how she danced. Then he noticed the trickle of blood that had begun to run down her arm and the broken furniture that strewed along the stage and decided that was the perfect moment to pick up his role of the enraged older brother.

Extremely timely he realized with his first step forward, before he had said a word, as he watched a well aimed hand reach out and grab her leg in the middle of one of the turns, forcing her to turn her knee and ankle hard enough that she collapsed from it.

Almost instantly, people began yelling and throwing things, which certainly explained the debris that scattered the stage. Skif moved forward, pushing his way through the crowd, drawing himself to his full height so that fewer of the tavern's patrons would think him so easy of a target.

"Alright, all o' ye blagguards. Get back, damme, and get those filthy hands off me little sister!"

The ploy seemed to work at first, until a few of the more belligerent patrons began to get in his way.

"Who're ye to stop us?" one jeered. He could here more calls from behind Callie and he hoped Balin would be coming soon from what they were saying.

"Just another tart."

"Break her legs so she 'as ta work like the rest a 'er sort!"

"Throw 'er out!"

"Get rid 'a the little bitch afore she tries telling' the guard all she knows!"

There was the sound of a flurry of hooves against the door, and it flew open and Balin rushed in, moving in front of where Callie lay, half-crouched on the ground, her leg sticking out from beneath her.

_Chosen!_ he yelled, Mindspeaking enough that even the deafest of old men would have heard the blast of Mindspeech from the Companion. Skif moved forward long enough to scoop Callie up and set her on her Companion before he hit Balin's flank to send him towards the door at a full gallop. There was a flash of silver hooves, and Skif thought grimly that one of the hecklers was unlikely to be getting up soon if he got up at all before he beat his own hasty path to the door, following in the Companion's wake.


	7. Chapter 7

Callie clung to Balin, trying to keep focused on her Companion as they rode well out of sight of the tavern, Skif and Cymry keeping up.

_Balin, I'm sorry. If I would have listened to you- _

_Hush, dear one. It will be fine. Let me help your head a bit._

The familiar feeling of Balin's mind in her head brushed softly along the edges, but she could feel the pain and fear from tonight beginning to ease a little at a time until finally she could see easily and begin to notice other things again. Including the throbbing pain in Balin's leg and she looked down at it.

_You're hurt!_ she told him, using the mental link between Companion and Chosen to push this through.

_I'll be fine, Chosen. You have other things you need to worry about._

Technically, Balin was right. She knew that even before Skif grabbed a hold of her reins and pulled her aside towards a shaded grove that lined the particular street that they were on, planted years before by a thoughtful, if somewhat pretentious, merchant who thought the shade would be welcome in the summers. He was right, but it also created a convenient hideaway for Heralds when they wished to discuss matters out of full view of everyone. That she knew from Rissa, who like the cobbler, were two of the only people she had met in all of Haven outside the Heralds who she felt gave a damn to help take care of people like Callie Barker and Lecallyine Golsa, a gesture they had extended to her even back when she truly was a street brat.

"I think we need to stop and have a word," Skif bit out, an icy tone in her fellow Herald's voice as he met her eyes from where they were stopped. It was pouring rain, hard enough to have washed most of the black out of her hair even with the pins and clips holding it up. With a soft curse, she removed them and let the rain darkened blonde tumble fall down around her shoulders.

"What is it, Skif? Taking my hair down does not make me deaf," she added dryly as she waited for the older Herald to speak.

"No, but it is taking me a bit of time to breathe enough to talk, dear heart. If I had not seen you in Whites earlier today, I would have said you were being dafter than a little who had scarcely learned to toddle! What put the daft idea that you could-,"

"Don't you dare tell me that! I know you were a thief. Hell, you talked shop with me when you thought I was just little Callie Barker, and Cymry and the other Heralds never stopped you. I know what I'm doing as much as you do, Skif, so knock it off."

"I was going to say not take backup. Even Alberich and Kero make sure that when they're this far in they have someone there to watch their backs."

"Oh, certainly." Callie's words almost breathed sarcasm and as she continued to grow steadier from Balin's help, she noticed that the Companion's gait was not as certain, but was off as he struggled to keep from pulling too hard at the left hip so that he wouldn't jostle her.

_It will be fine once I'm in my stall with Keren or Sherill helping to mend it up a bit._

"That is why you're here with nary a sign of anyone to help you then? Because Heralds don't go out without backup, do they?" It was a mean, petty jibe, but with Skif questioning her and Balin hurt, it was as if she had to snap about something that had gone wrong in this whole mess.

"I don't have back up because your Companion practically dragged me to help from my supper. Now hurry up. We need to get you to the Healers before anything else happens."

"And what about Sal and Kyla? You think I'm going to leave them there with that place the way it was?"

"Who?"

"Sal and Kyla. The twins. The barmaids. They'll be twelve come next spring. You really want to leave them there?"

Skif let out a sigh but he quit arguing at least as he went into a trance to Mindspeak with another Herald. She knew the look very well from watching everyone in her classes as well as the other Mindspeaking Heralds over the past couple of years. So it didn't surprise her when another Herald came. What did surprise her was who it was.

"Heyla, Skif! What is it? Shouldn't you be packing?"

"Sorry, Griffon, but it'll be a few more minutes before I can get Cymry and myself both out of this wet. I don't have a far enough range to make sure you got where though without shouting it to everyone else."

The Lord Marshal's Herald just nodded. "The Thorny Brush. It's only about three blocks. I'll be fine that far. As long as they send enough of the Guard to make sure everyone stays fine."

Balin shifted again, and this time it was clear, at least to Callie, that the Companion was in pain badly enough that his leg would need treated before they would have time to make it back to the Collegium, even if he was able to head off at full gallop.

She jerked the reins which Skif had still hold of as he talked to the Lord Marshal's Herald before galloping off in the direction of the cobbler's, the only place she could think of with anything that could be used to bandage the wound in time.

She heard Skif call after her and the muffled curse as he finished explaining to Griffon and chased after her.

_Don't worry, Chosen. Cymry will explain to him why_. Balin said trying to reassure her. Even so, she could feel how grateful he was when they stopped and she harnessed him to the post in the back, quickly grabbing her clothes from behind the clothes in the back and hastily throwing them on over her dress for warmth as she looked around the small room. She found it quickly, a half tanned piece of leather from a consignment for boots which had been scrapped when the patron had run out of money unexpectedly, and the damp chamois and mint scented water that the cobbler used to scrub the tanning out of the detailed pieces of work rather than the sluice she used as a shower.

Carefully, she took the things and made her way back out. She had scrubbed the blood away from the wound well enough to look at it. It was a nasty looking gash, as if someone had gouged Balin with a knife when he had helped to get her free.

For Callie, that gash was the last straw. With shaking hands, she set down the chamois and water on top of the piece of leather and burst into deep, sobbing, wordless tears as she held onto the Companion's mane.

She barely heard Skif when he caught up a moment or two later with her. He still looked angry with her, but he was gentle enough helping her to bandage Balin well enough for the rest of the journey back, and did not mention the incident at the tavern at all. In fact, it wasn't until they had steered Balin into his stall in the Companion's stable that she felt Skif and another arm grabbing her own, gently trying to drag her away from Balin when she realized where they meant to take her. Where Skif had in fact insisted that she go before the Lord Marshal's Herald had come. She felt her arm being jerked backwards as Skif and the other Herald wrestled to pick the petite woman up to carry her to the Healers. Somewhere in her mind, she knew she should be registering the Whites and the arms that had a hold of her, but something in it all was too much like what had happened that had made her finally decide that the streets would be a better chance than her own house, the night when the eldest of her sisters had found her and half nursed her as she tried not to scream while she tried to hide the swelling and bruises with tight, painful dresses and the powders the few women in the house like her mother and two of the other whores took to lighten their skin. For a second she heard only roaring in her ears as she panicked blindly before she heard Balin calling desperately through her own thoughts.

_Dear one, they are other Heralds, Skif and Jeri. Chosen, look and see what you are doing?_

It was only then that Callie noticed the shining clip in her hand, already half undone so that the two tiny daggers glinted in the moonlight as she had it pointed at Jeri while she kept fighting Skif as he tried to keep her from hurting herself any worse than she had, something which was clear from the sudden pain that was spreading up and down her side.

_Can't you take care of this the way you always do, Balin?_

_Not and heal myself, dear heart. For once let the Healers care for you. They can do more with hands than I can right now._

At the Companion's somber reply, Callie let her struggling lessen so while not completely limp and resisting, neither Jeri or Skif were risking being lamed anymore as they carried her gingerly to the Healers, leaving Keren and Sherill to tend Balin's wounds.


	8. Chapter 8

Talia moved forward, leaning beside one of the beds. Bright Lady, she had missed this with all of the political intrigue lately! She smiled as she felt the patient relax and fall into a more peaceful sleep when she heard one of the doors open and Jeri's voice talking to one of the Healers, accompanied by Skif's deep tenor. Moments later, a young girl, barely through her first year at the Healer's Collegium walked over to the Herald.

"Milady Herald? There are three Heralds here and Devan wants to know if you would be obliged to help him with the case.

_Oh dear God, please do not let it be Neave with another nightmare of his childhood! _While being Queen's Own had hardened Talia in some ways, it hadn't in others. And Neave's past was one thing she still had problems forcing herself to accept even the thought of, especially with her own children now.

"Bring him in then, she said, hoping that she was wrong. And was relieved to see she was when she saw that the Herald being brought in was not Neave. The relief faded rapidly though as she realized who it was that Skif and Jeri were supporting.

Herald Callie.

There was no need to guess what she had been doing when she was injured either, not after the conversation she had had with him when he had stopped to visit her on the pretense of getting headache powder. It was still endearingly sweet at how Griffon, Skif, and Neave still thought of her as a little sister who needed spoiling, bringing back treasures like the hair clip and harp strings that Neave had bought for her on assignment, along with a tiny puzzle box for Jemmy and an incredibly detailed book of poems that could only have been crafted by a Bard with how hypnotic they were as a gift for Dirk as well. And it took a lot for Neave to have been able to make such a trusting, childlike gesture, completely at odds with what his own childhood had been like.

Or to sit and explain to Talia how worried he was about the assignment that Teren had given him, taking the younger Herald out on assignment with him and why the Dean had made that selection.

Devan had had the two Heralds set the girl on one of the beds and one of the other Trainees, this one an older boy less than six months away from his full Greens had helped her stretch out on the propped pillows so that the Healer could examine her. The room was silent for a few minutes while the man worked smoothly and efficiently in the brightly lit room. Brightly lit enough that Talia had no difficulty seeing the frightened expression on the girl's face as he did. Without a word, Devan nodded and reached back onto a table behind him for a small vial of green liquid.

"Take this, girl. It tastes horrid, but it will help cut the pain and lessen any damage until we heal it."

Talia was unsure of what the odd look that Callie had spared Skif and Jeri meant, but whatever else she was thinking, she did take the medicine, making a face as she did so.

"You're right. It does taste awful."

"It works though. Now lay back and rest a bit. The pain will be gone shortly." Devan said, trying to reassure her as the drug worked its way into her system. As soon as it had and she was asleep, Devan looked at all three of the Heralds and gave a deep sigh.

"I've worked with the lot of you for a good while now, but it never fails to shock me with what sort of bloody damage the lot of you endure before you'll even think of coming near these walls. What in the name of all that is blessed happened to her?"

Skif looked grim. "Her Companion came and dragged me and Cymry off to help bring her back as soon as they knew she was hurt. It seemed that Balin was the one keeping things from becoming worse than they would have been, and even then the other Companions were getting ready to step in before this. There was a group that attacked her at a bar where she had gone. They hit Balin too, it seems like since Keren is up and busy patching him."

Devan nodded, giving an offhanded dismissive gesture, not rudely but merely the way many Healers did so as to let the Heralds know that he would be putting most of his energy into healing a patient. Skif and Jeri, more than a bit familiar of these gestures from their own stays in the Healers Collegium as well as when they were finding Talia working there for any meetings that the Queen's Own would need to attend took the hint and headed back to their beds, leaving Talia with Devan to heal the younger Herald.

Talia did not envy either of them, least of all Jeri. It would be very unlikely that the Weaponsmasters' Second would be able to go back to her bed without giving a report to one of those two Heralds. And with her doing something so fool as undercover work in the back streets of Haven without help, especially after the warnings that the girl had received from Alberich- Well, she could well imagine what time it would be before Jeri found her bed.

It would likely be just as late when Talia found hers.

She made sure that she had her shields firmly grounded and centered and then linked into Herald Callie's mind to begin her part of the work.


	9. Chapter 9

It had been a long time since I have been able to update my stories due to working with school and my own writings. Two of my Bleach fics should be updated by the end of the week, and I should manage some more on the Valdemar and Naruto fics as well within the next month.

Griffon folded and unfolded his arms before sitting down across from Herald Callie, listening as she recounted what had happened the night before in the tavern. Not that he had not heard or seen enough to know what had happened. Still seeing her in her Whites, her hair loose and dry , it was hard to see her as the tavern dancer that had been with Skif the night before. Instead, she looked as tiny and delicate as some of the dolls that the best milliners modeled in the windows of their stores.

And yet, he was certain it was her, and what she had been doing. And just as certainly that every word that she had spoken was true.

He cursed for a moment that his gift was not Mindspeech beyond what it took for him to work with his Companion before feeling the familiar link between himself and Harevis surge open.

_Yes, Chosen._

_ I wish to tell the Circle what I learned-_

_ They already know. We've taken care of that. Her decisions were not the wisest, but her Companion supported her and helped her with what she did. Balin is not one of us who is incautious. I believe him and his Chosen, and you questioned her under Truth Spell. Without any Healing, her pain was too harsh to share with others, and she did not see the truth of the uglier pasts that some of our Chosen have, only the bright shining whiteness. Balin Healed a decent amount on his own, but we all should have realized sooner when it came to Callie. Not knowing enough to trust, in spite of how safe we might tell her that it was is not her fault. Given her past, her trust of the circle is very great. She trusted them to accept Callie Barker with all of her flaws. But if Skif did not trust his welcome, do you not think Lecallyine Golsa might have wondered at hers?_

_ Yes, but-._

_ You won't need to do a second stage Truth Spell. There are others that can who will, including Talia. And anyroads, the other accounts do line up with her testimony. Alberich has been protesting on her behalf all morning and so has Kerowyn. And since they did not even recognize her when they saw her dancing, that only reinforces that in the Circle's minds that she was acting slightly foolhardy, but not against her role as a Herald._

_ Good._

_ Don't relax too much Chosen, there are still a few people who you'll need to talk to about that with._

_ Such as?_

_ Callie, first of all. And her mentor. Anyone who knows Neave knows why this is hurting him, but he needs to calm down before he leaves with her for her internship. Do you really want him to be alone on the border with both of their tempers this raw? That is a bad ballad waiting to happen! _

_ Yes, the tale of how two noble Heralds blacked each others eyes and brawled in the streets to be arrested by the local Guard. I think I see what it is that I need to do then._

And the first was to reassure the poor Herald before him that she was not going to be hated for what she had been.

Which was something that Griffon hoped that the other Heralds would have the sense to actually follow. But emotions weren't always guided by sense. So, he would start with the hardest task first.

The task of even trying to reassure Callie.

Griffon took a deep breath, his eyes refocusing as he took in the frightened girl's face as she waited for his response and smiled, taking a moment to relax his posture and demeanor from the sternness that one would expect of the Lord Marshal's Herald.

"That lines up with everything that we have been told. I'm sure that others will want to speak with you, but hellfires, your record as a Heraldic trainee was spotless! Even with this, you will look a very saint compared with someone like Skif who risked even more for pranks and not just Queen and country. Still, a walk through the gardens wouldn't be amiss for you. Especially after sitting and pattering to me for so long. The Healers would skin me if you hurt yourself after this. And it will probably put your Companion's mind at ease if they are anything like my Harevis. Go on!"

With an almost teasing shove, he pushed her in the direction of the door and made his own way through to take his papers to where the other Heralds would be meeting.

Where if he needed to, he would shout over them all to make sure that Herald Myste and Herald Talia got the information that they needed to get.


End file.
